WiFi
by LadyLini
Summary: When Linda Royce tires of being inadvertently forced to "unplug" for the school year, she decides to take matters into her own hands–that's right, Linda's bringing WiFi to Hogwarts!


**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. However, Linda Royce is my own invention and therefore my character.**

**A/N: Based off of this: "I want to read a fic where some tech savvy muggleborn manages to patch WiFi into Hogwarts, 'cause let's be honest, the anti-muggle-technology charms were done by some ministry [official] fifty years ago who knew [nothing] about electronics beyond radios, much less ****microprocessors..."**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Linda Royce was by no means normal, yet there wasn't a soul alive who would say that she was anything but. She appeared to be just like every other child on the block; She walked around with her smartphone held as close to her nose as was humanly possible, wore her skinny jeans as if it were a religious requirement, and kept her hair in a perfect messy-bun <em>at all times.<em>

However, her neighbors didn't realize that Linda Royce wasn't quite the average girl she seemed to be. Once, at the age of two, her building blocks began to levitate, floating around her nursery as if held aloft by invisible fairies. By five, her toys routinely played out her fantasies without any help from her chubby hands. Her parents were under the impression that she was a miracle worker. At seven, the Royces were visited by two men from the Ministry of Magic, who explained just exactly what was going on and to _please_ stop telling the media that Linda was the Messiah reincarnated.

Mr. and Mrs. Royce were more than a wee bit disappointed and a tad beyond embarrassed to find out that they weren't the next Mary and Joseph, but they got over it. After all, they had just found out their daughter was a witch, and as far as they were concerned, that was even better.

When Linda turned eleven, her parents hugged and kissed her goodbye and sent her on her way to her first year at Hogwarts. It was then that her UGGs were first traded in for the required (and more practical) black flats, her leggings and oversized sweaters were replaced by the school's robes, and her phone was left in the dorm in favor of her wand.

Linda Royce may have been learning Charms and Potions instead of Calculus and World History, but still, her hand had a tendency to twitch toward her non-existent pocket, forever wondering when her next Tumblr alert would come. Every time she reached for her phone, though, she was reminded of two simple facts: First, Hogwarts didn't have WiFi. Second, Hogwarts wasn't on any phone-carrier's coverage map.

That meant no internet, no Google, no cute puppy pictures, no YouTube, and worst of all, _no Netflix._

So, after enduring these nine months of relative torture for six of her seven years at Hogwarts, Linda decided to remedy this particular ailment.

It was a very simple thing to unplug her family's router the night before her annual departure and pack it into her trunk, right on top of her Transfiguration books. The next morning, her parents were so busy scurrying around, double and triple checking that she hadn't forgotten anything, to notice that their router was missing.

The moment Linda's other Muggle-born friends entered the same compartment as her, they knew something was up, and it took them precisely ninety-seven seconds to get Linda to let the cat out of the bag.

After that, the news that WiFi was coming to Hogwarts spread amongst the Muggle-born minority like sniffles in a preschool. All through the initial banquet, Linda bounced excitedly. Not only was Hogwarts _finally_ going to have WiFi, but _she_ was the one bringing it. Her–Linda Royce. Her name would go down in Hogwarts history.

That night, none of the other Hufflepuff Muggle-borns bothered unpacking their trunks; they were too busy watching with eager faces as Linda carefully plugged in wire after wire, conjuring up the appropriate outlets when needed.

The Pure-bloods had long since gone to bed, thoroughly perplexed as to what the big deal was about this little black box, when the network was recognized by the first deivce. A hushed cheer went through the Muggle-borns' numbers as they congratulated Linda, but it was really no huge surprise that the anti-muggle charms hadn't thwarted the WiFi connection. They had probably been most recently cast during the Golden Age of the Radio.

During the first month the WiFi was up, classes and interactions continued as normal. The students went to class wide-eyed and ready to learn, the halls were packed with students flowing from one part of the castle to another, off to visit friends or owls, and the dining hall remained full. The number of students connected to the WiFi network was small, and primarily limited to the Hufflepuffs.

But by the second month, word had spread: _Hogwarts has WiFi!_ and the Muggle-borns began attempting to juggle their studies with Netflix. They arrived at their classes drowsy, but sufficiently awake so as not to alarm their professors. The previously cramped hallways were now more easily navigable, and the constant population of the dining hall was dwindling dangerously, a product of the Muggle-borns sudden fear to leave their dorms. The Slytherin and Gryffindor Muggle-borns soon began to exhibit the same traits as the Hufflepuffs and, though they were harder to break, the Ravenclaw Muggle-borns soon joined the users of the WiFi.

The fourth month marked the beginning of the end.

The week of mid-terms was approaching rapidly, leaving the students scrambling to finish _just one more season_ and keep up with their Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons. It was during the weeks leading up to mid-terms that the professors first saw the bags under the students' eyes. They noticed the substantial lack of traffic to and from the owlery and the nonexistent inhabitants of the dining hall. The quick, squirrel-like way the students had begun to move was taken into account, as were the sudden intakes of breath and the murmurs of _Reichenbach!_ and _Johnlock! _whenever deerstalkers came up in Muggle Studies.

At first, the teachers were under the impression that they had an outbreak of some new illness on their hands, and they tested and prodded the students, searching for the cause of the supposed malady. When none was found, the teachers were forced to step back and scratch their heads. Of course, in order to prevent hysteria, the teachers didn't tell the students why it was they were being tested and let them believe it was routine.

Mid-terms came at the same time they did every year, but the students reacted with a panic unseen in generations previous. The Muggle-borns' scores hit an all-time low, but at least they were able to keep up with the latest season of _Bones. _

If the teachers were worried before, they were on the verge of getting ulcers now. In fact, Linda could've _sworn_ she saw one on the back of Professor Snape's hand, but it was probably just the dim lighting of the Potions classroom.

Gradually, the Pure-bloods also discovered the internet. They were amazed by the moving-pictures-that-weren't-pictures, but still didn't quite get the point of it. Then they were introduced to Netflix. After that, there was no argument as to whether or not there was a point.

Even if their lives had depended on it, the poor teachers couldn't figure out why their charges were so worried about these _ships_–why did they care so much whether they sailed or not?

As the school year came to an end, things didn't get any better. If anything, they got worse.

Finals came and went with much the same performance as mid-terms, though with a slight improvement. The teachers attributed this to their new methods, along with the fact that the students _must_ be beginning to feel better by this point. However, the students knew that it was simply that they had gotten better at juggling the insanity and constant confusion that came with being in love with _Doctor Who._

By the very last day of term, Linda was widely regarded as destroyer of any and all social lives that had previously existed in Hogwarts–not that anyone was complaining. It was with a heart heavier than one made of solid lead that she unplugged the router that evening.

The crowd that had once stood behind her with excitement and baited breath now stood with dread and anxiety in their stomaches. Could they make it through the night without giving in to their nocturnal fic-reading habits?

But make it through the night they did. The students woke up more attentive and alert than they had in a _very_ long time. It was a half bad feeling, actually.

That morning, the students rushed and hurried, trying desperately to find that last charging chord before they had to leave for the summer. But Linda had packed herself up the night before, so instead of joining in the mayhem, she sat quietly by the fire in the common room and watched the others.

She observed the bloodshot eyes darting rapidly around in baggy sockets and the energy-bar wrappers clogging the trashcans. She noted the _Supernatural _t-shirts a good number of the students wore and the unclaimed _Torchwood_ paraphernalia scattered around. She knew that the entire student population appeared to be under the influence of one drug or another–crack, perhaps?

But Linda also saw the groups of close-friends that would never have even spoken to each other without the internet. Furthermore, these were friendships that would last them a lifetime–and then some.

Curled in that warm, cozy chair in front of the fireplace, she knew exactly what she had done.

For better or for worse, Linda Royce had brought WiFi to Hogwarts.

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><p>The next year, Linda Royce had long since left Hogwarts, taking with her the WiFi, but still, the students that remembered told her story. They told the story of how she had stolen her parents' router for the year, giving the other students a taste of the Muggle-borns' world. How she had inadvertently brought together friends and best friends. How she had introduced them to and showed them how to join the most accepting group of people on the planet.<p>

And when the teachers heard the students telling tales of Linda Royce and the Wiffy, –whatever _that_ was–they just scratched their heads and kept walking.


End file.
